


It'll Be Okay

by redgoth



Category: South Park
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, Anxiety Disorder, Crying, Growing Up, M/M, Mental Health Issues, what the heck is a plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-22
Updated: 2016-06-22
Packaged: 2018-07-16 14:01:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7271185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redgoth/pseuds/redgoth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The weight of the world felt like it was on Pete's shoulders, and Craig wants to help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It'll Be Okay

**Author's Note:**

> i've been having some Bad feelings today and i wanted to write them down and shove them onto pete

Occasionally, Pete realized, on bad days, going to the movies wasn't the best of plans.

Days like today, when there didn't seem to be enough money to make it through the week, enough for food, or enough to make the payments that needed to be made. It wasn't a good idea to see some deep, emotional movie about growing up. It was a bad idea.

Craig had broken into their date night savings for enough to buy two movie tickets and a large root beer. Pete had argued against it for a good seven minutes, and in that time Craig had managed to persuade Pete into the car and then they were on the road. The fucker was persuasive.

Truthfully, all had gone well. They arrived on time, got their drink, found good seats… since the movie had been out for a few weeks already, there were very few people in the theater, only an elderly couple in the back, and two girls only a little older than Craig and Pete off to the side. The boys had placed themselves in the middle of the theater. About six minutes in, the two joined hands and the movie continued with no hiccups whatsoever.

But afterwards, as the two walked out the theater doors and to Craig’s old Chevy pickup, it seemed the weight of the world was slowly returning to Pete’s shoulders.

As they drove down the old streets, with the sun still shining down on the town, Pete watched the houses pass by, catching glimpses of people in their homes and pets sleeping in their yards. They drove by a group of children, all playing together in front of a blue house. They were laughing and smiling, dancing around the yard together, without a care in the world.

Pete’s chest felt heavy. So, so unbelievably heavy, as he remembered the cost of living, how much it cost to be living on your own for the first time, with a duplex full of living creatures to care for, and how much money was spent on each. How much money was spent on himself, and Craig, and the little extra when Firkle stayed with them for a week, how much money they needed and how much they didn't have. How he missed Michael, and Henrietta, Michael was off at college and Henri was traveling the world. How he had spent nights staring at the stars with his three best friends, and how now only one was anywhere near him. Everything felt heavy as he thought about where things were going with this life, and what the future held. It all came down like hail.

The world was spinning in the passenger seat, a personal hurricane of hell, and all Pete could see was the rows of houses and sun shining off the windows in a movie-like show.

When Pete’s calm breathing started to turn to short, choppy breaths, Craig picked up on it immediately, and sent him a few worried looks to his lover. Pete hadn't noticed.

As they pulled out of the little neighborhood, tears began to form in Pete’s eyes, hiccups bubbling up from his throat. Craig’s brown eyes widened when he glanced over to the boy.

“Pete?” He said softly, forcing himself to focus on the road.

“No.” Was Pete's weak reply, as tears began to fall down his pale face. Craig gripped the steering wheel tightly.

“Pete, I'm going to pull over...” Craig was speaking barely above a whisper. It was all that was needed, truthfully. Pete let out a garbled sob and yanked his hands up to cover his face.

“I'm sorry.” He whimpered, but Craig merely shook his head as he pulled over to the side of the road.

There was a brief moment of hesitation as Craig stopped the truck and cut the engine. Craig stared ahead while Pete pulled his legs up to his chest. Slowly, Craig unbuckled his seatbelt and crawled over to his sobbing boyfriend. Suddenly moving faster, within seconds Craig had his arms around Pete, pulling him onto his lap and close to his chest.

“It's okay…” Craig whispered, and Pete shook his head furiously.

“I'm going to die.” He said in a short gasp of air.

“No, you're not.” Craig ran his hand gently through Pete’s hair. “It's going to be okay…”

“No, it's not!” Pete’s voice cracked as he swatted at Craig’s hands, his bruised knuckles clenching into fists. “God, I can’t be a fucking adult! Holy shit, have you fucking met me?”

Craig sighed softly, pulling the boy closer to him. “Pete…”

“No! Fuck, I’m- I’m, how the fuck can I be an adult? God, I was more of an adult when I was twelve, I’m 22 and yesterday I fucking started crying over a goddamn Disney movie! Shit!” He squirmed against Craig’s arms but made no move to try and escape.  Craig closed his eyes, running his hand over Pete’s arm, letting his boyfriend rant for as long as he could. “My job doesn’t make shit, and neither does yours, how are we supposed to take care of two cats, two dogs, two people- fuck, fucking three people, fuck, Firkle… Craig, we barely have enough money to see a goddamn movie!” Pete’s choked sobs sounded through the vehicle.

“I still look like a twelve year old.” Pete pressed his face against Craig’s chest. “Ugly baby face. I’ve had acne since I was like, four. It’s still here, it never leaves.”

“I like your face.” Craig murmured. That brought out a little huff of a laugh from Pete.

“You li-, you like twelve year olds?”

“I like you.”

Pete curled up tighter against Craig, letting out a shaky sigh. “I don’t know why, I’m a fucking mess.”

“You’re not a mess.” Craig squeezed Pete’s arm gently, resting his chin on top of Pete’s head. “You’re just…”

“Just a child who’s been forced to have adult responsibilities.”

“As most children eventually do.”

“ _Most_ children…” Pete grumbled, “don’t have weird mental shit going on. Or the ghosts of dead poets hanging around."

“Yeah, but that’s what happens when you live in South Park, Colorado. Y’gotta be prepared for this bullshit.” Craig snickered. “My eyes glow when I get pissed off. People’ve been abducted by aliens and shit. Most kids don’t have to deal with that, either.” Craig paused, rubbing Pete’s arm. “Most kids don’t have midlife crises when their nine.”

Pete hesitated, breathing in deeply. After a long moment, he nuzzled his head against Craig’s chest. “Why does South Park suck so much.”

“I don’t know, babe...”

“Fuckin’ terrible.” Pete scoffed, slowly tilting himself away from the taller boy. “We should move. To like, Washington, or something. Somewhere _normal_. And cold.”

“Somewhere normal and cold…” Craig repeated, shifting awkwardly in the middle seat. Pete moved himself off of Craig’s lap and back into his seat, and Craig sat in the middle seat, arm wrapped tightly around Pete’s waist. “Sounds nice.”

“We could pack up and move west.” Pete snickered, before letting out a shaky sigh. “How… how much do you think rent is, in Washington, anyways…”

“Don’t know, don’t care.” Craig shrugged, leaning his head against Pete’s. “We should do it. Maybe find better jobs than we’ve got here.”

“Maybe…” Pete sighed softly, and Craig moved his hand up to ruffle Pete’s hair. The boy squawked in protest, swatting at his boyfriend’s hand.

“Pete.” Craig pressed his lips to the side of Pete’s head, and Pete huffed. “Let’s go home, babe…”

Pete’s eyes flashed with recognition, as if suddenly realizing they were pulled over on the side of the road, barely out of a quaint little neighborhood. He stared forward, and let out a little breath. “Yeah…” He mumbled. Craig smiled slightly.

“You can continue your freakout once we get back to the duplex, if you’d like.”

“Hey,” Pete gently shoved at Craig’s chest, but there was the tiniest hints of a smile on his face, “don’t be a fucker.”

“Fucker’s my middle name, babe. Craig Fucker Tucker.”

Pete smiled at that, and once again Craig leaned over to kiss Pete’s forehead, before scooting back over to the driver’s seat, and starting the truck.

“I don’t even have a driver’s license.” Pete muttered suddenly, eyes hardening as he adjusted himself in the seat.

“ _Wait til we get home._ ” Craig shouted, pulling back into the street, and Pete laughed, swatting his boyfriend’s arm.

**Author's Note:**

> i mentioned 'ghosts of dead poets' since i just. have a headcanon that poe stuck around and would drop by from time to time. and sometimes would bring friends. they mostly bug pete and firkle. and mike sometimes.


End file.
